The Chapter Files
by Ebil
Summary: A collection of HP stories that I have a good start on 1000 plus words, but it's highly doubtful I'll ever get back to.
1. Goodbye and Thanks for

Title: Good Bye, and Thanks for Turning me Into a Fish  
Genre: Humor / Parody  
Pairing: Harry/?? (Probably Luna, but nothing's set in stone)  
Summary: Albus makes a horrendous mistake and Harry learns of betrayals and manipulations. The aftermath leaves Harry with new friends and surprising allies.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked across the Ministry Atrium as Harry was ensnared in Voldemort's mental grasp. The boy uttered phrases at the bidding of his puppet master. Mentally, the old man scowled, he didn't like anybody else controlling the boy. He certainly wouldn't kill him either. Sure, the world would say that he was kind and benevolent, unable to take another life after his own fateful destiny was finished. The truth, however, was far from it. He needed Harry, if only for the things Harry still needed to do for him.

With his mind made up, he mentally went through his head, searching for the perfect spell. It couldn't be dark, though he could easily justify it to the Ministry. A few options were quickly discarded, as amusing as it would be, he couldn't distract the Dark Lord by transfiguring him into a woman. Then it came, the perfect spell. Not only would it free the boy, but it would keep Voldemort inactive long enough for Mr. Potter to be sent back to his relatives for the summer. He would have one shot, and only one shot to do what needed to be done. Tom wasn't foolish enough to allow him another try.

A bit of perspiration coated his hand, causing the wizard to grip his wand a bit harder than required. The required short twirl followed by a stiff jab, which was probably a bit too stiff in hindsight, was the only indication that the defeater of Grindlewald had done anything before a blinding blue light shot out of his wand and hit Harry 'boy-who-lived' Potter square in the chest.

That same blue light was also the only indication to the Headmaster that something went wrong. The thought barely had time to be processed in his mind before the boy shrank in front of the two powerful wizard's eyes. Soon bright golden scales replaced the boy's skin as his eyes bulged out. Hands turned to fins as his legs shrunk together. The boy was transforming into a goldfish before their eyes, and the old man had no idea what went wrong.

Albus looked across the room, studying Riddle's face. The first emotion the Dark Lord slipped was confusion, followed by indignation. The two foes looked at each other. After Voldemort realized that this wasn't some master plan by his former transfiguration professor and that said transfiguration professor actually _messed-up_ something unintentionally, the Dark Lord proceeded to laugh his first true laugh of humor in over thirty years. A slightly annoyed, but masterfully hiding it, Albus turned his gaze back to the boy-who-was-turned-into-a-goldfish and grimaced as he saw his pupil flopping around, in obvious need of water. The esteemed headmaster conjured a fish bowl with water for the flopping goldfish and unceremoniously dropped the fish in.

Unsure what to do with Harry, the headmaster decided to deal with it later. The Dark Lord was currently in hysterics on the floor, which was opportunity, and reason, enough to hex him into next week.

As soon as the headmaster stashed the bowl into his robes and raised his wand, Aurors flooded the building and Voldemort made his hasty escape.

Of course, Professor Dumbledore couldn't let the truth get out, and so concocted the story that he had whisked the boy away, moments from his sure death at the hands of Voldemort. The Daily Prophet would be running stories over the coming weeks of how the Head of the Wizengamot had cast an unknown spell that had blasted You-Know-Who to the floor. The ministry was informed that they couldn't see Harry due to the fact that he would need time to recover from the life-threatening ordeal before he would be able to speak with investigators.

After hours of hasty story making, boring meetings with the Minister apologizing profusely, and cleaning up the mess of his wayward students, the Headmaster portkeyed himself, and his new pet fish, back to his office. He would have a lot of thinking to do.

A weary sigh escaped the old man's lips as he stared at the offending round glass bowl, filled with the colorless liquid and housing his ticket to the world. It had been hours since he first stepped foot into his office. The first thing he did when he arrived was making sure there were no holes in his stories and reports. After finding everything up to his usual standards, he turned to his second task, which was turning Mr. Potter back into his rightful form.

After spending an hour using the most powerful of curse-breaking magics to no result, he tried the simplest of counter spells, 'Finite Incantum'. This too yielded nothing. Neither did any of the Transfigurations he tried. At the end of the time, all he accomplished was a headache and a bit of magical exhaustion.

He sent another glare at the offending fish, for all he could tell, that's all Mr. Potter was now- A fish. 'Now that's an idea," thought the Headmaster as he stroked his long beard as he started to pace around the room.

'It's been proven time and time again that those who have been cursed into another creature, such as werewolves, retain no memory of their time as that being. As opposed to transfigured persons, such as Animagi. Since I tried all the standard and obscure transfiguration counters on Harry, it means that for all intent and purpose, at this time, Mr. Potter has the mind of a fish.'

Once the thought took hold in Dumbledore's head, he spent countless minutes looking at the facts from every angle until he struck his open palm with his other fist. "Excellent," the twinkle in his eyes was beyond compare. The old man had a plan, a plan he found to be most ingenious.

He turned back to the fish bowl with a shockingly wicked grin on his face before he waved his wand and encased the two in the most advanced privacy spells and wards he knew.

The goldfish swam frozen in place, as if almost in shock, as confession after confession passed through his professor's lips. Foul deed upon foul deed listed before him like it was merely a commentary on the weather. Plot beyond plot unveiled, plots against his very being by the one person he trusted like a grandfather. To bluntly put it, the fish was floored.

Fortunately, for Harry, goldfish have only one expression and so any indication that he actually understood exactly what was being said passed by the Headmaster's notice. Amongst the questions passing through the Fish-Who-Lived, he couldn't help but wonder why the elderly wizard was telling him all this. Beyond the obvious that he thought that Harry was, indeed, fish in mind and not Harry. What was there to be gained?

As his mind sought to fully comprehend the meaning behind everything he was just told, two new figures entered the office. Once again saved by the goldfish's lack of facial expressions, as his eyes would have bugged out either way, two completely unharmed Ron and Hermione sat down. Not that he should have been surprised; the Headmaster had confessed to them being slightly less than stellar friends.

The next thing Harry knew, he was on a side table off Hermione's bed. Apparently, the Headmaster requested that they take care of the fish-Harry until they could find a way to reverse the transformation. He would have been terribly miffed if he hadn't been able to watch the various girls in his year in various states of undress.

The thrill of being a goldfish soon wore off. Sure, the mornings and nights were wonderful, but there was only so much to do as a goldfish. He counted the number of stones on the wall next to his bowl. He had played "Guess which fallen brazier belongs to which girl" numerous times. He had even tried to see if goldfish had any fish-bits, so to say. The last was rather hard, he ended up swimming in circles for hours before he realized he just couldn't tell. This, of course, led to a mental break down with the thought of "Well, it's bad enough I'm a goldfish, but what if I was turned into a _female_ goldfish". Needless to say, he needed to get out of this form, and fast.

He tried many methods to retain his former features. He had taken a deep breath, counted to 10, and then chanted every spell he knew. He wished upon a fallen star. Though, he had to admit, since his bowl wasn't near a window, he had to make due with Parvati's Stars & Moons panties. It was now his third day as a fish and his hope was slowly dimming.

Swimming around, he started to think about how he use to take being human for granted. Sure, he now knew his life was mostly a sham, but it was still nice- having two legs to stand on; Flying, defiantly flying; Being able to eat Treacle Tart. If goldfishes could sigh, he would have. What he didn't notice is that as he thought more and more about being human again and the picture of his former human self became clearer in his mind, he slowly transformed back into a human. It wasn't until he accidentally shattered the bowl that he realized he was turning back into a human.

A short victory dance later, Harry rushed back into the boys' dormitories and jumped into the shower. A nice hot shower, fresh clothes, and a chocolate frog later, Harry laid back on his bed and fingered the wand in his pocket. Now that he was human again, he had to do something. Dumbledore would surely go back to manipulating him. He still didn't understand why Dumbledore actually told him all that. Unless he thought that he wouldn't remember. Harry shrugged. He would need to do some research, but first, he had somebody he had to contact.

* * *

**A/N -** I started this back in Feb. I updated it earlier this month, but I don't know when I'd be able to write more for it. This is actually based of a weird dream I have. It would eventually entail Harry, Snape, and Sprout starting a TV watching club, something about breathing fire (eh, if I ever write it, it would make sense), and a diary like Tom Riddle's, without the whole "possession" down-side. 


	2. Consequences of our actions

Title: The Consequences of Our Actions  
Author: Ebil  
Rating: K+  
Genre: Action/General  
Pairings: None  
Summary: What happens when things are meddled with that ought not be meddled with? Magic is sentient, and it is angry. A tragic day leads to a race against time and magic for the sake of all magic-kind. Will enemies be able to cast aside their differences for a common goal?  
Disclaimer: Everything HP belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Warning: CHARACTER DEATH!

* * *

_"No Comment."_

_Thaddeus Bradbury, Unspeakable. WWN Interview, 1999._

**Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic**

**1995.05.01**

Two figures, cloaked in gray, faces shrouded in darkness, hovered over a glowing sphere. The sphere, itself, was unremarkable as spheres go. However, the two figures remained fixated on it. What they were looking for, not many people could tell you.

For four hours, the two figures watched the sphere. For four hours the sphere did nothing.

The door to the room creaked open and the two figures abandoned their post, giving a brief update to the next shift over the lack of activity before they could retire from their posts.

While all backs were turned, a shimmer of red wove through the sphere. As quick as it had arrived, it disappeared. The event went unnoticed and the next shift watched the orb as carefully as ever for another four hours.

* * *

_"When we were in the Department of Mysteries, there was one door we couldn't open. We thought nothing of it at the time. Looking back, we should have known something was wrong. After all, we got through every other door, the Department was supposed to have been heavily secure in the first place. What could they have been possibly hiding from the rest of their Department? Unfortunately, we were only school kids and we couldn't have known."_

_Hermione Granger. Daily Prophet "The Battle Shrouded in Mysteries", March 2000._

**Headmasters Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**1996.06.20**

Albus Dumbledore sat down and looked over the mess that was his office. The children would be returning home on Monday. Then there was Harry. Albus hated the fact that Harry was angry at him, after all, wasn't he just trying to do what was best for the lad? Fifteen was much too young an age to have the weight of the world in your hands.

Another sigh permeated the stillness of the office before Albus reached for his wand and started to sweep the remains of the trinkets and gizmos, wondering if time was really all young Harry would need before facing his destiny.

Destiny, Albus loathed that word. He could sympathize with young Harry on that point. All great Dark Lords were brought down by prophecy. Else, they wouldn't be Dark Lords in the first place. After all, the victors write history.

The floo beside him sprung to life and a singed parchment was thrown on the floor. The old man wearily picked it up and looked at the seal. He hastily opened the letter and read through its contents, a smile on his face. A flash of fire behind him alerted him to his familiar's return.

"Well, Fawkes, it looks like we won't have to rely on destiny much longer…"

The majestic bird tilted its head as the old wizard burned the parchment. He had learned his lesson about leaving war notes behind long ago.

* * *

_"Bloody Hell…"_

_Ronald Weasley. WWN, in response to the Death Toll, June 1996._

**Hogwarts Express, In Transit to Kings Cross**

**1996.06.23**

Ginny Weasley was lounging against rather hard vinyl seating. She shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable, but to no avail. Her face morphed into a scowl as she shifted in the other direction, trying to find a smidgen of comfort to be afforded from the seats.

If anybody noticed Ginny's plight, they weren't talking about it. They, too, would probably also bemoaning the lack of comfort the cross-country train ride afforded, if they weren't so engrossed in conversation.

In a fit of agitation, Ginny leapt up and a small growl escaped from the back of her throat. The occupants of the compartment turned away from their conversations to gawk at the red head. She had been so quite and the burst of agitation caught them by surprise. Hermione gave the red headed girl a look of understanding before casting a cushioning charm on the seat.

"Thanks, Hermione, but I'm going to go for a walk."

The other occupants of the compartment broke from their stupor and looked up at the girl, save Neville who had been napping since shortly after the train left the station.

"Watch out for Malfoy, he's been trying to get us alone since…" Ron trailed off as Harry pointedly ignored the end of the statement and turned to stare out the window. Ginny sighed, and then nodded, before leaving the compartment.

Gently closing the compartment door, Ginny looked down the train. Not many people were moving about, but she noticed a few of her year mates in Hufflepuff standing outside of the girls' room, whispering furtively amongst themselves. As she made her way towards them, she started to hear snippets of their conversation.

"Becky, I don't know, she's been in there for awhile…"

"Shh, I'm telling you, it's probably just, well, you know…that time of the…"

The two girls noticed Ginny approaching and stopped their conversation, but the worry was still apparent on their faces.

"Hi Becky, Laura… Is something wrong?"

The two Hufflepuffs looked at each other before turning back to Ginny, "Well, Tracey went in there right after the train left and I know it's been at least twenty minutes since the train left Hogsmeade. We're starting to get a bit worried."

"We don't want to go in there, in case it is, well, you know. Last time that happened, she wasn't exactly pleased…"

Ginny nodded her head; she had heard that Tracey, though she may be a Hufflepuff, was rather… hostile one week a month. "I could go in and check on the pretext of fixing my makeup."

"Would you?" Becky asked relief apparent on her face as smiles appeared on both the Hufflepuffs faces.

Ginny nodded, "I'll be back in a moment."

She took a step into the bathroom and went to the mirror. Looking into the reflection, she could see that one of the stalls was closed, but there didn't seem to be any movement from inside. Ginny sighed and went up to the stall and knocked on it, "Tracey?"

There was no response. Ginny blew a stray hair out from her face and raised her hand to try again. Suddenly, the train lurched and something slammed against the stall door before a wand rolled out from under the door.

Panic swept through her body as she knocked again, "Tracey? Are you okay?"

There was still no response. Without warning, a scream came from down the train. Soon enough, Ginny could hear screams from all over the train. The panic she had disappeared, replaced with cold determination, the train could be under attack. The first thing she would have to do is make sure that Tracey and her friends were safe before finding her friends.

"Okay, don't say I didn't warn you, I'm coming in," Ginny waved her wand and a spell later, the door opened and Tracey McKinnon fell out the door in a dead slump. Ginny paled and rolled Tracey over. The girl was so heavy, too heavy, despite her small size. Realization sunk in as she moved two fingers to Tracey's neck. There was no pulse.

She, if even possible, paled even more before rushing out of the bathroom right into Tracey's two friends. They took one look at Ginny's face before running into the bathroom. Two seconds later, two new sets of screams and tears were added to the already blaring cacophony of sounds.

Ginny paused, unsure if she should leave her year-mates alone, before she rushed down the train. She hardly noticed the passing compartments with students hastily shaking other students, while others cried. A seventh year Slytherin prefect was seen comforting a first year Hufflepuff. With only her friends on her mind, she burst into her compartment. It was empty save for two people.

Luna Lovegood was clutching Neville Longbottom. If she hadn't seen Tracey, what seemed like ages ago, she would have thought he was just resting, or perhaps hit his head when the train lurched. The most telling thing being that in her inspection of the scene, not once did his chest inflate.

"What's happening?" Ginny forced out. Luna looked up at her, "I don't know" A sob wracked her frame, "I just don't know."

Ginny kneeled down and hugged Luna. She offered no consolations, as she too looked down at her one time ball partner. "Where are the others?"

Luna shifted her gaze from Neville back to Ginny, "They wanted…they…nobody wanted to leave him alone. I.," she choked down another sob, "I volunteered to stay, and there were others we had to check on. The screams…the screams were everywhere. Ron… Ron's owling Dumbledore and… and I think his father. Harry and Hermione are checking the others. There was no warning- nothing to prepare them. One moment he was lying there, then the train lurched and…how did we not notice? How Ginny?"

By now the tears were freely flowing down Luna's face. Had she been not been in disarray herself, Ginny might have noticed how un-Luna like Luna was sounding, but soon enough the tears were flowing from her eyes as well.

Moments passed, seconds changed to minutes, the minutes melted together. Everything after that conversation melted together for Ginny. At some point, Ron had returned and was receiving reports back from students. Harry and Hermione came in and out more times than Ginny could remember. Next thing she knew, she was being led out by Professor McGonagall into her mother's waiting arms before falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

"_They say that magic is alive; that it is a sentient being that allows us to use her at our wills. Ancient wizards use to craft religions based off this belief. Personally, I think it's all a load of dung."_

_Draco Malfoy. "The Essence of Magic" Charms Essay, 1995_

**Class A Security Clearance Bunker, Ministry of Magic**

**1996.06.24**

"Report."

"At precisely 2:17 PM, 527 people died. 103 Squibs, ages 5 to 62; 26 previously unknown death eaters, ages 20 to 38; 5 known death eaters, ages 22 to 27, 3 which incarcerated in Azkaban; 93 children, up to the age of 10; 36 students on the Hogwarts express, ages 11 to 17; 2 home schooled students, aged 13, twins; 52 Ministry workers, aged 35 to 103; 210 adults, aged 18 to 173. Cause of death, unknown."

Madam Bones hung her head. All those people dead and nobody knew what happened. When the first person dropped in the Ministry, it had been chaos. People were running around, screaming about a new undetectable weapon of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Then an Auror on duty reported the deaths in Azkaban. Surely You-Know-Who wouldn't kill his followers. Even then, the blame was placed on him, after all, they had gotten caught and maybe he was just angry at their failure.

It wasn't until early this morning that You-Know-Who's 'innocence' in this tragedy was confirmed by his rampage against a small town that was home to a high population of Squibs. The actual target, though, were a pair of Unspeakables. According to their son, who had been forced to watch his parents being tortured, he questioned them on this Ministries new weapon before killing them. The poor boy was currently at St. Mungos getting treated by a mind healer.

The Daily Prophet and Wizarding Wireless weren't helping the situation at all either. After the morning headlines declaring that 'No wizard or witch was safe from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's new weapon of terror', the level of howlers and owls had tripled and there were still no answers.

Could it mean a new player on the field? Amelia sincerely hoped not. They were barely equipped to deal with You-Know-Who; another Dark Lord would mean the end of the wizarding world, as they knew it.

She turned her attention back to the team of investigative aurors, the best unit in the world. It was also the closest guarded secret of the Ministry. Forged from past conflicts with Dark Lords, in what many say was an unholy alliance between the Unspeakables and the Aurors, they were the best of both departments. Unfortunately, they were also a non-combatant unit, trained mostly to hide in the shadows and gain intelligence. They stood at attention, waiting for her to give them an order.

She squared back her shoulders and looked back at them. All was not lost, yet. Just because 527 are dead doesn't mean it was a terrorist attack. Right.

Almost desperately, she asked them, "Surely you must have some theory on all this? How do 527 people just drop dead?"

Agent M19 stepped forward and cleared his throat, "If I may… we checked over their wands and found no commonality in spell usage. All ages were affected. We have reports from America and allied nations that it wasn't a localized phenomenon."

That was some new information, but the picture was still unclear.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

The agent shifted, a bit of hesitation clear in his posture. "The only thing in common with all these people is that they had some magical power."

Amelia's eyes widened, "But that can't be possible, we use magic and we're not dead! What about those Squibs who died?"

Agent S07 raised her hand and interrupted Amelia, "It's been proven that Squibs, while not having enough access to magic to perform spells, do have a minimal amount of magic in their blood, which allows them a slightly longer life span that muggles, though not as long as non-Squibs."

Amelia conceded that point, "But what about the magic? Are we all at risk of dropping dead any moment now?"

The agent shook his head. "No, as impossible as it sounds, there's only one more commonality amongst the victims..."

Agent M19 paused, as if unsure as if to continue. "Well, go on," Amelia prodded.

"When a magical child is born, a standard set of tests is run on the baby."

Amelia nodded; she knew about that, she was there when they were doing some on her niece.

Agent M19 continued, "Sometimes there's a notation of a higher susceptibility to Magiosensilis. Normally this just means that they get a dose of the Sensilis Plumbeus Potion to suppress it.

Amelia shook her head, "I'm sorry, I don't understand. I've heard of Magiosensilis, but I'm not a mediwitch."

A few of the agents chuckled at that. Agent M19 just grinned before continuing, "Those with Magiosensilis have a sort of empathy with Magic. It's been theorized again and again that Magic is sentinel, the only thing is that is can't be proven because it has been proven that magic has no intent, or rather, emotion, before it is cast.

For the most part, having Magiosensilis is harmless for those with a lower sensitivity. In fact, some find it a blessing because they gain an awareness of sorts when a spell is cast, which is why most Squib-born Squibs never have it treated, they don't have enough magic to even have that much of a sensitivity to it.

The more sensitive to it, though, the more dangerous it becomes. It's nearly impossible to be precise when measuring it, which is why most magical children are given the potion."

The agent paused to collect his thoughts before continuing again, "For those who have a high sensitivity, every spell they, or anybody around them, cast rebounds a sort of emotion on them. In the classroom, if everybody casts a spell at the same time, it could cause them to pass out from sensory overload, or even go insane."

Amelia sat down, feeling a headache coming on. "I see. So everybody who had Magiosensilis just dropped dead without warning?"

Agent M19 nodded, "From our preliminary investigation, it looks that way."

"Then there shouldn't be a repeat of yesterday afternoon."

Agent S07 shook her head, "We said that Magiosensilis was the only connection, but there's no reason for them to just drop dead. As my colleague said, magic doesn't have any emotions to it until it is cast, not to mention most of them had been treated with the potion. For someone who has Magiosensilis to drop dead, it would be the equivalent of casting one hundred Death Curses, and even then, they would have to be near that person. Couple that with the fact that the Ministry's Dark Sensors would be screaming bloody murder if that happened. We're still nowhere."

"She's right, for all we know, they were just the beginning," added Agent M19.

Amelia rubbed her temple, "We have a press meeting in two hours, and I will be reporting that the cause of death is unknown, but that it is our best guess that it is an isolated incident. Continue your investigation. Report back tomorrow, same time. Dismissed."

* * *

**A/N -** I was heavily influenced by watching The Core and SuperVolcano. I actually have a bit more of this written, but the section was incomplete and so it was rather pointless to add to this. Dumbledore and the Unspeakables have been bad bad people, but they didn't mean to be. There's a whole lot of plot involving the kids unravaling the mystery, along with the aurors trying to figure things out. Eventually they'll collide and soon it won't be a battle between good and bad, but a fight for survival. Enemies have to work together or else magic, as they know it, will cease to exist. dun dun dun. 


	3. Untitled Fic A Ch 1

Title: Untitled

Genre: Drama (I guess)

Pairing: Never really got that far

Summary: Harry defeated Voldemort that night, however, to the rest of the world he is the younger brother of the Twins-Who-Lived. ravenclaw!harry, ignored!boy-who-lived.

--

Godric's Hollow was a quaint little town out in the country. To the outside world, it was the picture of a peaceful little town, however to the Wizarding World, it was a small community of Squibs that developed over the past 100 years. This, the Order decided, would be the perfect place for the final showdown between good and evil. There would be less work on the Muggle front because there were no muggles in the area. The Order had spent weeks creating fallout shelters underneath every residence so when the battle happened, everyone would be safe. The only problem was getting Voldemort to the area.

"Why not just use Snivillus?" was James' argument, to which the Headmaster always replied, "We've been over this before, it would compromise his position as a spy if the battle failed."

"Yes, the tragedy it would be if he were found out," Sirius replied sarcastically with a roll to his eyes, while Severus gave him a death glare.

"What about Peter? We could feed him information, the little rat...," growled Remus.

The arguments and failed plans continued this way for weeks before Dumbledore came up with a plan. He quickly called only the people who would be necessary- Lily and James Potter and Severus Snape.

--

Lily and James came in to find Severus and the Headmaster talking.

"Lily, James, please sit down"

After settling down, the headmaster got into his plan. After interviewing an applicant for the Divinations post, he remembered how obsessed with destiny Tom Riddle was. And so, he spent the afternoon coming up with a fake prophecy to leak to Voldemort. The only problem was that it would endanger the Potter's children, as the prophecy would read that one of the children would have a power that would destroy Voldemort. However, he assured them that the Order would be there, hidden around, so when Voldemort got there everything would be ready and Lily's job would be to Portkey the children to Hogwarts during the battle. Serverus's job would be to leak the prophecy to Voldemort, Dumbledore would set up an opportunity for Peter to accidently overhear the prophecy in order to make Voldemort think that it was real. The date was set and everything was ready, the battle was to be on November 1st.

--

October 31st, Halloween

Lily and James were trying to keep up every semblance of normalcy. They knew Voldemort had scouts out and so they didn't have time to be anxious. Sitting in the living room, The twins, Isabel and Patrick, were playing with magical building blocks while Lily read a book to Harry. James was reading the Daily Prophet Evening Edition, though he spent the last 10 minutes reading the first line of an article about Invisible Rutabagas taking over Ireland's Quidditch League, at least, that's what he thought it said. Had he been paying attention instead of worrying about the battle to come tomorrow, he would have realized that something was wrong. While Godric's Hollow was a quiet town, it was never this quiet. And honestly, it should have been a bit more noisier than usual, with the residents preparing to hide in their shelters for the day. The Order members would be arriving tomorrow morning.

Suddenly the door burst open and before James and Lily could draw their wands, two stupify's knocked them down. Lord Voldemort, flanked by Lucius Malfoy and Roldopus Lestrange strolled into the house.

Voldemort looked over at the children, "So one of these brats is the one whose prophesized to take me down?," he all but sneered to the two. The twins, realizing that something was wrong, tried to go and hide behind the couch, but one of the Death Eaters locked their legs. Harry ran over to them and then turned around and looked at Voldemort and with one finger rocking back and forth out promptly told Voldemort that "Mommy said that's a no-no".

Now, contrary to popular belief, the Dark Lord did have some semblance of a sense of humor. At the very least, the idea of a two year old telling him that he just did a 'no-no' did cause him to smirk. Of course, this smirk was not of a jovial sort, it wasn't even an arrogant smirk. It was a down right scary smirk. Before Harry could react to the smirk himself, he found his two siblings out in a cold faint. This also amused the Dark Lord, and he made a mental note to smirk more at his victim's children, there was no need to expend the energy behind a stunner if a smirk would do. But that was neither here nor there, he decided. And it was getting pretty late. So without prompting, Voldemort turned his wand to the two year old who was looking rather angry at the Dark Lord for his earlier magical transgressions, and shot off the famed Avada Kedavra curse. As he turned to take care of the twins, he didn't notice the curse rebounding and hitting him. Of course, his two lackeys did. Unfortunately, they were too shocked to move, or even shout out a warning, and so, the Dark Lord fell. Panicking, the death eaters disapperated away.

The shock wave from the rebounded curse rattled the very foundation of the house and it started to collapse, a few boards had fallen down, giving everybody scars, before the Order finally arrived. By the time everybody had been healed, for the most part, and woken up, the news that the Potter Twins (who were the closest to the remains of the Dark Lord) had somehow defeated Lord Voldemort and saved the world.

--

A week later found the Potters moving back into the Potter mansion. It was a hectic time, between moving back in, the press conferences, the meetings at the Ministry, and social gatherings, nobody noticed that they were spending less and less time with the youngest Potter. Though, it wasn't due to a lack of trying on Harrys part.

"Mommy, could you wead me a stowry?" was his first attempt, the day after they all moved back in.

"Sorry Harry, Mommy and your brother and sister have to go to a party," she said, ruffling his hair and setting him in his crib.

"Can I come to th' party?"

"Sorry Harry, its time for little boys to go to sleep," and with that Lily kissed his forehead, turned off the lights and closed his nursery door.

This argument confused Harry; he was only a year younger than his siblings, how come they didn't have to go to bed yet? When he asked this the next day, all he got was a pat on the head and was shooed back into his room.

By the end of the next month, Harry only saw his parents at meal times and right before bed, the rest of the time he was watched by a house elf named Dorothy or her brother, Todo.

--

**A/N** - Well, I guess I had written this back in March of 2007. I don't know if it was some sort of challenge though because at the top of my file I had this whole little spiel about how old the children where, how they looked, and a general way the plot should go. So this may or may not be in response to a challenge laugh we'll never know. There's actually a second chapter sort of written too.


	4. Untitled Fic A Ch 2

Title: Untitled - Chapter 2

Genre: Drama (I guess)

Pairing: Never really got that far

Summary: Harry defeated Voldemort that night, however, to the rest of the world he is the younger brother of the Twins-Who-Lived. ravenclaw!harry, ignored!boy-who-lived.

--

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The irritating buzz reached every corner of the room. A young boy of 7 rolled over and covered his ears with his pillow, desperately trying to block out the noise, but to no avail. Eventually he got out of bed, which triggered the alarm to stop ringing. The boy had jet black hair, that while it was unruly, it never was messy. His emerald eyes, hazy with sleep, looked at the time and groaned.

_Why in the world did I decide that 5AM would be the perfect time to wake up?_ The boy sighed and walked over to his closet and pulled out his newest shirt and trousers. The shirt was a nice green which matched his eyes, and he chose some khaki pants. While they were his newest clothing, they were hand-me-downs from his brother, both articles of clothing were slightly used, but as his brother really only liked wearing red shirts, the green shirt was still very nice. The pants weren't so lucky, but they would have to do. He quickly went through his toiletry and headed down stairs to the kitchen.

The house elves were already up and making breakfast for the rest of the family. Since Harry spent most of his early years, after that fateful night, in the company of Dorothy, he had found out how to cook. Last year he started cooking breakfast for himself, to give the house elves a bit of the break. He figured it was the least he could do for them since they cleaned up after him. Not to say that he was a messy child, far from it actually. After making a quick omelet, he sat down and started eating.

Once he finished, he brought his plate back to the kitchen. Before he could reach the sink, Todo had grabbed the plate and winked at Harry, who gave him a small, but playful, scowl. Knowing it would be no use to argue with the elves, he wandered upstairs into the family library. It was where he spent most of his day, once he learned how to read. After he finished reading all the children's books, most of which were sent by adoring fans for the Twins who Lived, he had moved on to more advanced books. He had read a good portion of the library already, not that his parents knew. As far as they were concerned, he was still working on all the children's books.

He had been in the library for a few hours before Dorothy popped up next to him.

"Master Harry, sir. Masters James and Lily wants you downstairs," and with that Dorothy popped back to her work.

_Curious, I wonder what they want with me... Wait... What's the date?_ Harry quickly looked around until his eyes rested on the calendar. _July 31st...hmm, so I didn't accidently forget the twins' birthday... and I doubt they remember that it's my birthday. They haven't remembered for the past three years...not that I'm bitter or anything. _Harry smirked. _Well, at least not that much._

Harry quickly went downstairs to find everybody in their traveling cloaks and raised an eyebrow.

"Harry, dear, get your cloak on, we're going to Diagon Alley," said Lily. The Twins, as usual, were ignoring Harry. It wasn't that they didn't like him; they thought he was okay as far as little brothers went, but they didn't particularly care for him either. The feeling was mutual.

Harry, excited at the prospect of being able to go to Diagon Alley, quickly grabbed his black cloak and touched his finger to the Port Key they were going to use to travel. Once they got there, James gave Harry a pouch full of money. This was their normal routine when Harry was allowed to go to Diagon Alley. His parents would go shopping with the Twins and he would be allowed to go buy whatever he wanted. They normally gave him 50 galleons. Of course, these trips were few and far between, usually only once every few months.

Harry quickly accepted the pouch of money. He had been planning his for awhile. While he had read all those books on magic, he couldn't control his magic enough to do it wandless, though he had tried. He quickly made his way over to Ollivanders, making sure his parents weren't watching him. Not that they ever did, but he was better safe than sorry.

A half hour later, Harry walked out with his pouch lighter and a wand hidden under his cloak in an invisible holster. _Holly and Phoenix feather, that's a pretty potent combination... I'll have to re-read that book on wand properties when I get home._ Realizing his parents would be looking for him in Flourish and Blotts within the next hour; he made his way in and started browsing. He wanted to get all his 'adult' books before his parents got there so they'd see him buying the 'children's' books. While the library at home was extensive, it didn't have everything.

Harry went up to the clerk, "Excuse me, sir. My mother was looking for a book on Library mayn-ten-ance and organ-organization. Do you have any books for that?"

He had learned long ago to play being less than intelligent when it came to the store clerks. They, like his parents, didn't believe that a child could ever possibly be reading books of that level or on those subjects.

"Ah, young Mr. Potter, of course." the clerk, named Ernie, replied while showing Harry to the right section.

After looking through the books, he found two books that would work for what he wanted to do and quickly made his way to purchase them. As soon as they had been paid for, shrunk, and stowed away in his pocket, his parents and siblings walked in. Harry dashed to the children's section and started looking through the selection of beginner chapter books.

By the time his family had finished their rounds at the bookstore, Harry had begged off finding any interesting titles after being asked about his lack of purchases. Of course, his parents hadn't known he had already made his purchases, but that was alright by him. Touching the Portkey, the family flew back home.

**A/N** - Yep, a chapter 2. It's sort of an unfinished chapter 2. I actually did add a bit here at the end since it had stopped mid-word. Just enough to finish the thought (at least, what I hope I was thinking back then). Actually, I have to say. My spelling is horrible. Thank goodness for spell-check. I actually had Dorothy as 'Dorthy' for the entire fic.


	5. Misadventures of Hufflepuffs

Title: The Misadventures of Hufflepuffs

Genre: Comedy

Pairing: None

Summary: Three Hufflepuffs strive to prove that Hufflepuff is just as good as the rest, resulting in inadvertently hilarious messes.

--

It all started innocently enough. However, we all know how things that 'started innocently enough' end up...

It had been a nice day at Hogwarts - no attempted murders, no fights, and, best of all, no homework in Potions, as Snape had come down with what he had termed 'Potteritus' - the over-exposure to ones named Potter. Most of the time it wasn't much fun being in the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw Potions class after the Gryffindor/Slytherin class containing the illustrious Potter, but there were those days.

The class dismissed with the Ravenclaws rushing off, presumably to the library, after all, the lack of homework doesn't mean that there isn't anything to study. The heroes of our story, a lone group of Hufflepuffs, smiled warmly and headed off to their common room. The story would be all well and good, and rather quite dull, if it had ended there, but our group of Hufflepuffs happened to overhear a conversation between a group of first years in the hallway.

Now, Hufflepuffs weren't the first people who you would think would be hanging around a corner, eavesdropping on private conversations. You might have attributed that more to Slytherins, but even Hufflepuffs were bound to act a bit out of common when they heard the following phrase.

"...Well at least we're not in Hufflepuff! Could you imagine?"

With a short stop, the group stopped and pressed their ears to the wall, silently fuming at the preposterous accusation. In their very fine opinion, Hufflepuff was wonderful house.

Another first year, who happened to be female, giggled, "Yeah... My father told me that all those not worthy of the noble house of Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor get stuck there."

"I heard that the Hufflepuffs didn't have a brain between them all, from what I read in 'Hogwarts: A History' all the houses are very loyal to each other, what makes Hufflepuff so different? It's really irrational..."

"No need to use big words, we all knew you'd be in Ravenclaw anyways..."

The conversation continued on between the first years, drifting off into a 'who's house is better' arguement. Aparently, the group of first years were friends before Hogwarts and had been seperated into three different houses. But, that information wasn't really needed.

Back to our group of Badgers; they had abandoned their rather Slytherin trade and retreated back to their common room to lick their wounds, or rather, fume at the injustice done to their house.

"Honostly, is that what people think of Hufflepuffs?," asked Hero #1 of our group, more commonly known as Ernie.

"Well, they do have a point, not many people get recognition who were in our house, aside from Madame Hufflepuff herself," pointed out Susan.

"We're just as good as those other houses! 'not worthy of Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor'," Justin huffed.

"I know that, you know that, everybody in this house knows that, but nobody else seems to understand that..., " trailed Ernie.

"Of course! We'll show everybody we're just as good a house as the others!," exclaimed Justin, " Maybe we should challenge them to a game?"

The more rational of the group, Susan, smiled sadly and shook her head, "I have one word for you boys, Quidditch. We haven't won a game since..." She turned her head. Though it had been a year, the death of Cedric was still hard on the upper years. Ernie placed a hand on her shoulder, "Yeah, you're right, the Gryffindors would probably be all for it, the Slytherins would play more competively just to beat the Gryffindors, and Ravenclaw would perform textbook moves, no matter the game."

The silence continued for a short span as the trio contemplated the matter. Soon enough, it was Ernie who had come up with the brilliant plan. "Well, with a bit of hard work, I'm sure we can show the rest of the school we're just as cunning, brave, and knowledgeable as the other houses. It doesn't necessarily have to be a game."

"But what would we do?" asked Susan. Soon enough the trio were planning to show the world, or rather, Hogwarts, just how cunning, brave, and knowledgeable they could be.

--

**A/N** – This first chapter is all I had written. It's been in my folder since December 2006 (yikes!), but I do remember how I was going to format it. It was going to end with 5 chapters. Chapters 2,3, & 4 would be their Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin, and then the last would be the conclusion. This is probably the fic that has the most likeliness that I'll finish it since I know how it's suppose to end and pretty much all the middle bits unlike some of the others where I look at them and go "Gee, what was I thinking? And where was I taking THAT?"


End file.
